Ariana’s POV
When I saw that black mark it was then I realized I was sitting at the top of a very ugly reality.
“Who are you, Damon?”
How did such a point come into my life where these would be the words I’d utter? He marked me—for heaven’s sake.
My fingers skimmed across the mark on my shoulder. It didn’t feel right.
My fingernails dug into my skin as though attempting to peel it off.
Their haunting words couldn’t stop coming. It crashed in like waves, on a mission to destroy me.
“You only see truth through him and never a poorly written lie.”
I wanted to kill myself.
“Answer me!” I yelled.
That was a shadow contract mark, and it wasn’t new. Damon had been alive for thousands of years. That made it worse.
I could barely breathe and my chest felt hollow but in constant pain.
“Ariana,” He called my name so fondly that it hurt.
No, please.
I extended the sword, “Tell the truth or lie with your life.” Was that a little too much? To repay his betrayal with death?
